


Under this Light

by Moonshine_Givens



Category: Justified, Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Audrey's, BDSM, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Cock Slapping, F/M, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Trans Female Character, Voyeurism, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 07:09:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonshine_Givens/pseuds/Moonshine_Givens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raylan comes to Audrey's looking for Boyd, and he finds Boyd: high heels, short leather dress, pink lips, black finger nails.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under this Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gearseffect](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gearseffect/gifts).



> Hey there, Gunslingers! Please, please, read the tags. Don't know who Venus is? Please google her beforehand - and watch the SOA episode, it's great!  
> And please, blame this all on Gearseffect - he's the one who made me do it!

He’s in Harlan to talk to Boyd.

Big surprise there, isn’t it?

He’s always in Harlan to talk to Boyd. Hopefully he won’t have to arrest the man today: he just wants to ask about the latest known location of Dewey Crowe, and Raylan highly doubts Boyd will be very protective of that particular dumbass.

He also wants to see the asshole; he’s man enough to admit it to his own self, even if it gives him urges to strangle his self for being an emotional masochist.

He gets to Audrey’s, because it’s about the time of the day the shift ends at the mine, so Boyd must be making sure the girls are all working nice and hard to please Harlan’s finest.

Audrey’s is just as it always was: dimmed light and dark corners, the smell of booze and sweat barely disguised by the smell of something being fried in yesterday’s grease. Raylan wonders if the darkness in Audrey’s is a way of making the girls look prettier – what with the tired eyes of the mines and with the dizziness of the bourbon, the men there could buy the illusion of true beauty, and that’s as close as Heaven as one could get in Harlan County.

Maybe it’s the darkness, and Raylan himself is always tired, one sleepless night too much, but as soon as he scans the room, his eyes fall over Boyd.

Boyd Crowder.

Busty Boyd Crowder, wearing a dark leather dress that left little to imagination; wearing heavy make-up, soft pink lips and seductive dark eyes; waving around long, sharp nails painted black. Long-haired Boyd Crowder, with shining curls falling free over strong shoulders, the dim light reflecting on the locks and making it look brighter somehow. _Woman_ Boyd Crowder, laughing by the bar at something Jimmy was saying, looking happy and flirty and carefree.

Raylan felt thunder-struck.

He stood at Audrey’s door, mouth gaping wide, feeling like there was no ground below his feet. He wondered for a fraction of a second how was everyone behaving as if this was ordinary, how was everyone so at easy with Boyd’s gender change overnight, how this wasn’t in national breaking news, but then the second was over, and Raylan’s mind was back at total blankness, the impossibility of what his eyes presented him overwhelming his brain.

Then Boyd saw him, and things went to hell.

She stopped mid-laugh as if realizing someone was watching her. The way she turned to stare back at him was obviously practiced, her hair flipping back perfectly, and Raylan wondered quietly if Boyd always turned that way, but he never quite noticed without the curly hair to help him see it. There was a moment of stop, a single moment where she stared right back at him, lips parted and eyes wide. The next second, though, she started walking towards him, and even while red lights flashed inside Raylan’s mind – her sly smile was not a good sign at all –, he couldn’t turn around: Boyd’s walk was something else altogether. The man always had a cat walk of sorts, but now her hips moved with more intent, amplified maybe by the high heels or the fact her legs weren’t hidden under skinny jeans, but proudly showed under that short leather dress, long legs (longer than Raylan remembered Boyd ever having) with not a trace of hair.

She walked straight towards him, and before Raylan could even react, she had her long nails scratching his chest, nothing but lust on her eyes: she leaned forward, and Raylan had a flash of the many times Boyd had leaned forward to kiss him, but this was something else altogether. She was close – close – closer, and then she was whispering against his ear:

“You seein’ somethin’ you like, cowboy?”

And that was Boyd’s voice, Boyd’s accent, and Raylan brain short-circuited as he could feel her big breasts touching his chest, soft and warm.

Then, seemingly outside of the surreal dream Raylan was immersed, came a shout:

“Wha- fuck!, Ve- Raylan! _Raylan_.”

It was the way that voice said his name by the second time, that impatient way Boyd sometimes would call for him, when matters were urgent and Raylan was just not responding fast enough. That was what really got Raylan to wake up, to look away from the cleavage currently pressed so close to him and scan the room once again, being confronted with the image of – well, Boyd Crowder, for the second time in less than five minutes.

But this one was Boyd Crowder, ordinary Boyd Crowder; short, spiked black hair, skinny jeans, plaid shirt, no boobs whatsoever. This was the Boyd Crowder Raylan was used to, running towards him looking half-scared and half-amused, big teeth and big forehead, eyes wide.

Raylan looked over him. Then he looked back at the woman staring at his mouth. Back to Boyd. Back to the woman that was, by all means, Boyd.

This was, clearly, a Twilight Zone episode.

“Uh, Venus, honey,” Boyd – regular dressed Boyd, with no make-up in his features. “I know you tryin’ to make our friend here feel welcome, giving that he just recently arrived, but I’m sure you can tell by the star on his belt that he’s not a possible costumer of your high quality services.”

“Well, cousin, I sure like myself some lawmen.” And the way she dragged the word “lawmen” over her tongue took Raylan back to the doors of Boyd’s church, that day so long ago when he saw the man for the first time in twenty years. “I’m sure our cowboy here ain’t gonna let his job shy him down from havin’ some fun.”

She was looking at him as if expecting some form of answer, but Raylan stood at Audrey’s front door staring at two highly different, yet so similar, Boyd Crowders, completely lost.

“I… I don’… Boyd?” he looked over the man he knew for help, because surely they had their fights over the last year but Boyd was sure to always try and save him in times of great need.

Boyd just rolled his eyes, as if Raylan being confused by his female doppelganger was something ludicrous. Luckily, he also took pity of Raylan, and grabbed his arm, pulling him over closer to himself and far from the woman’s sharp nails.

“Raylan, you remember my cousin Vernon, don’t ya?”

“God damn it, Boyd, do ya really need to start with this…” at this point the woman stopped, recognition in her eyes. “Wait, Raylan? Raylan Givens?”

“Fuck.” Was Raylan’s cleaver input to the conversation.

Raylan remembers cousin Vernon Crowder, brother of Johnny Crowder. He remembers how the boy was born less than a year before himself and Boyd, a quiet, shy boy, who avoided social interactions and could rarely been seen in the company of anything that wasn’t a book or a magazine.

Arlo Givens just loved talking about Vernon: he was one of the many people in town that swore Vernon was not Bo’s nephew, but his own son. The rumors only increased with time, given the fact that, as years went by, Vernon looked more and more like Boyd and less and less like Johnny. At any given day the boys could be mistaken for brothers, and the fact they shared a last name time didn’t help.

Raylan wasn’t around Vernon much growing up, since he wasn’t around any of the Crowders by that time. He only got closer to Boyd when they entered high school, and by then Vernon had already hit the road, escaping home and leaving Johnny to be an only son.

Boyd still talked about it, though, when they were working the mine. Raylan remembers him saying that if anyone got to him talking about his “brother”, he would more often assume they were talking about Vernon than about Bowman – once or twice they were asked if they were twins. If anything could set them apart was the fact Vernon was usually looking down, hiding in shadows and just staying quietly out of the way, while Boyd was always a showman, charismatic and attractive as hell.

“You… Vernon?” Raylan asked, dumbly, knowing quite well he wasn’t at his best.

“She goes by Venus, now, Raylan, if you don’t mind.” Boyd said with a bright smile, a reassuring hand still around Raylan’s arm.

Venus was smiling as well, and now that the shock was dissolving into plain astonishment, Raylan could see her with a more careful eye – it also helped that the real Boyd Crowder stood just beside them, so their differences were more clear: her smile wasn’t quite as toothy as Boyd’s; high heels non-withstanding, she was a bit taller than her cousin; her features were somehow different, even though Raylan couldn’t pinpoint exactly what made her different and what made her similar with all the make-up to confuse his senses. She didn’t have that much of a forehead, of that Raylan was sure. Also, boobs.

“You got quite the scare there, didn’t ya, cowboy?” she said after a moment in with it was clear Raylan wasn’t going to say anything. She presented him with her hand, to which Raylan quickly grabbed and kissed: he was aware he was behaving like an asshole.

“I’m being an asshole, Venus.” he said out loud. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, that’s okay.” she answered with just the right amount of affected coyness. “It’s normal for a red blooded man to get speechless at the sight of a beautiful woman.”

“You’re right, of course.” Raylan took off his hat, gave himself a mental kick, and got his game smile on. He made a gesture to Jimmy for three drinks, which the man served with even more of a grudge he usually reserved for Raylan. “You did grown up to be quite astonishing. Got to travel the world, after all?”

The three of them sat on the bar, Raylan between the Crowders, struggling to keep his cool.

“Oh, I’ve been around. Mostly California, lately, though. Met some valiant boys there, but ya know how those things go, a girl gets homesick after a while, wants to see her kin.” Raylan knows that probably means she ran into some trouble, and Boyd was her last resource. “How ‘bout you? Heard you’re Marshal Givens these days, that right?”

“Yeah, ‘m afraid so. Got back from Miami not a year ago. First time in twenty years I set foot on Kentucky.”

“Oh, it was even longer for me.” she answered around her glass. “I won’t say how many years but I was out when I was fourteen, you do your math.”

Raylan felt himself leaning towards her, falling easy into a flirt.

“Those years ‘way from Harlan surely treated you well, if I may say so.”

“Oh, Raylan, you have no idea how well.” She winked at him. “But… you could always find out. We should get reacquainted, don’t ya think?”

It was a clear invitation, one that Raylan was going to deny giving his line of work anyway, but suddenly Boyd’s hand was just over his forearm, squeezing with purpose, as if Raylan needed to be reminded not to bed a prostitute at Audrey’s.

“So sorry, Venus, but I’m afraid I’m here over official matters. Came to talk to your cousin, actually.”

Venus smiled knowing, winked one more time and said “No worries, marshal, I’ll let you two talk. I’m pretty sure Jimmy here can keep me company.”

Jimmy himself looked way happier with this turn of events, as was Boyd.

“Well, then, maybe Raylan,” Boyd was saying. “we could go ourselves for a lil’ walk ‘round the woods on the back, whatchu think?”

“Ya got somethin’ in the back room you don’t want me to see, Boyd?” Raylan said in a lower tone, leaning a bit over Boyd’s direction, his flirty ways finding a new target.

“Ain’t got no secrets with an old friend, Raylan. I just don’t suppose you’d be very pleased to meet Mister Duffy while you’re out here asking your very official questions.”

“Wynn’s an old buddy.” Raylan takes a sip of his drink, thinking it over. “Ain’t got no reason to avoid him, but I guess I ain’t got no reason to say hi either. You left him alone in there?”

“Alone as in not with my men, yeah. He’s with his usual companion, though.”

“Mike?” at Boyd’s agreement, Raylan snorted. “He’s not getting bored any time soon, then.”

“Shall we walk, marshal?”

They left Audrey’s by the back door, the one that led to the whores’ trailers. Raylan was getting ready to stretch his legs, but Boyd, as soon as they were out the bar, placed his hand back at Raylan’s arm, directing him to a trailer a bit more distant.

“That one’s fairly new. Venus just got here, she didn’t get the chance to entertain that many gentlemen yet.”

“Thought we were goin’ for a walk…”

“What, you wanted me to invite you over to this particular den of iniquity in everyone’s earshot?”

“You worried people gonna start talkin’ ‘bout us _now_?” Raylan steps inside the trailer, almost losing his hat on the door.

“What with you ogling Venus as you were, I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t be such a wild stretch of imagination.”

They turned around, staring at each other – Raylan was about to argue he wasn’t _ogling_ Venus, but he found himself ogling Boyd’s mouth instead, so there wasn’t much of a point. They smiled slowly at each other, the energy buzzing between them was all too familiar.

“She does look good, doesn’t she?”

Boyd kept looking at him, head tilted, half of a knowing smile on his lips, for a long time. He took a step forward, and there really wasn’t much space left between them.

“You feelin’ nostalgic today, Raylan?” was his quiet question, no more than a whisper.

“It happens… from time to time.”

“Those times are happening more frequently lately.”

“Dunno, Boyd. You see what your first boy would be like as a woman, that shit can do things to your mind.”

“It surely does.” Boyd looks down for a moment, his smile widening, and when he looks back at Raylan, there’s a barely conceited humor in his eyes. “And what’s my excuse?”

Raylan laughs, throws his hat at the floor, decides he misses Boyd just a bit too much.

“You can always tell I abused my power. Ya know, for the record.”

“For the record, sure.” And then they were kissing, because it was easy to cross those last few inches, because some days just flirting and ignoring the past wasn’t enough for them.

It doesn’t get heated fast, even though Raylan already knew they were going that way when he left home today: it’s a slow built in which Raylan’s way too grateful for the chance of tasting Boyd’s mouth to pay attention to anything else for a long time. It’s Boyd’s teeth biting on his lips, on his jawline, on his collarbone. It’s Boyd’s hand against his back, warm on his skin, and maybe Raylan shouldn’t feel as protected as he feels, but his body can’t deny knowing, trusting Boyd.

Boyd’s fingers pull on his hair, and that’s it: Raylan’s suddenly kneeling on the ground, deliberately choosing not to care about his position or the place he’s at, focusing only in opening Boyd’s belt buckle and down his zipper, free the hard cock fast before Boyd can say a word.

When you fall in love with someone you don’t actually wants to love, there’s a list of shit that happens without your consent, such as: you find yourself missing the taste in your mouth when he’s about to come, the way pre-come mix with spit and goes down your throat. You used to get pissed off that he would forget you need to breath and fuck your mouth senseless, but when it’s gone you miss the way he pulls your hair when he’s doing it, you miss the stretch in your lips and the burn in your jaw. You lick at the head of his cock and is so fucking grateful to have this one more time, just one last time before it all goes to hell, that you’ll moan around that head, tongue teasing the slit, not because you know it’ll feel good for him, but because you can barely contain your heart inside your chest. His thighs under burn the tip of your fingers long before you two are away, the memory of a trembling muscle. And when he whispers “Teeth.” to you, you won’t get mad, because you know you’ll miss this too when it’s gone, the way his voice dragged around so low, not just because of the lust consuming it, but also because this is a secret, this is for your ears only. And even the pubic hair that somehow ends on your lips and the pre-come/saliva running down your chin won’t feel bad, because once again you have no idea if this is the last time, and maybe it is, and maybe you won’t get another chance.

Or maybe he’s just a slut, kneeling in a whorehouse with a thick cock down his throat; tears running down his face from trying so hard to suck faster, almost coming just from squeezing his lips and hollowing his cheeks over the hard member leaking pre-come on his tongue.

That’s sure a better option than being that much in love.

Be that as it may, Raylan doesn’t get the warm prize he was hoping for. They both hear voices coming over the trailer, approaching fast. Raylan’s out of Boyd’s cock and on his feet in less than a second, but that doesn’t exactly solve anyone’s problem: Boyd, even though he’s tucking himself in, is still painfully hard, his jeans stained with pre-come or maybe Raylan’s spit; they’re both looking ravished and smelling like sex; Raylan’s pants are in no better condition. There’s no way they could just go out there without everyone knowing what exactly they were up to in the trailer, no one would even need much imagination.

Boyd looks lost for a moment, but then he’s pushing Raylan over to the other side of the trailer, behind a curtain. It’s not a wonderful hideout place, and if anyone looks there it’ll be even more obvious what was happening there, but at least they won’t be in plain sight. It’s an even smaller space, and Raylan has to press his back against Boyd, the smallest opening in the curtain letting him watch the door and the bed of the trailer.

So it’s like that, still hard and with an even harder Boyd Crowder pressed against his ass, the taste of cock clear in his mouth, that Raylan watches as Venus get inside with a costumer, who just happens to be…

“You the jealous type, Jimmy Boy?”

Fuck.

She drags him around the room, throwing him hard on the bed: Jimmy looks a bit angry, and anger makes his lips and cheeks pink, blond eye lashes blinking away his surprise.

“I thought I’ve told ya you were mine, today, Venus, you had no business offering yourself up to that asshole.”

Venus stands between Raylan’s line of sight and Jimmy, but the sound that echoes in the trailer lets no doubt that she had just bitch-slapped the boy, and if the moan that escapes his mouth is anything to go by, it was quite hard.

“And I thought I’ve told ya I don’t have owners. You want me, boy, you can have me for the hour, but that’s it. If I wanna fuck Marshal Givens, damn, if I wanna fuck the whole Marshal’s Office twice, you got no say in it. Now tell me you sorry.”

“I ain’t tellin’ you shit!”

Another hard slap, and this time Raylan couldn’t help but jump a bit. Boyd helped by resting his hand around Raylan’s waist, grounding him.

“Ya know, Jimmy, maybe slapping you around ain’t the best way to get what I want. You like that shit too much. Maybe I’ll just fuck you raw and hard and leave you without coming at all. Watchu think?”

“No, Venus, please, I wanna come!” Venus was walking around Jimmy now, and they could see how hard she was, her member tenting under her dress. They could also see the angry red imprint her hand left in Jimmy’s pretty face. “I-I’m sorry.”

“You sure you ain’t just sayin’ that?” She was getting stuff around the bed, coming around again with a big rope. “’Cause I’m afraid I don’t trust you much, Jimmy. Now, I’m gonna tie your hands against the bed and blindfold your eyes; I ain’t gonna gag you but I trust you not to scream like a lil’ bitch, Jimmy, can I trust you not to do that?”

He was quickly taking off his shirt and presenting his wrists to be bound, and even though there was fear on his features, it was pretty clear to Raylan this was Christmas at Jimmy’s.

“You remember your safe-word, boy?”

“Vernon.”

“That right. You say that name you don’t gotta worry, Imma stop fucking you right away.”

She ties his hands to the bed in a way that makes his head closer to the curtain where Raylan and Boyd are hiding. For a second Raylan fears Jimmy will be able to see them if he looks up, but he much more concentrated in following Venus steps around the trailer, and then she’s blindfolding his eyes and Raylan rests assured the boy can’t see shit.

She grabs a cat-o-nine-tails whip at the edge of the bed. Raylan looks it over: it doesn’t look extreme threatening, capable of hurting but not of breaking the skin, and if Jimmy was enjoying the slaps Raylan has no doubt he’s going to take it easy.

It was never his kind of scene, you see. BDSM stuff never really appealed to Raylan that much, he was much more the beer-and-charm kind of guy, relying that sex with the right person was a rush on its own; but there was something about Venus walking around in killer high heels, a whip on her hands: it was maybe her physical similarity with Boyd, Boyd that was still so close and so hard and so wonderfully pressed against his ass, breathing over his neck. Maybe it was the fact she looked so natural with it, the right amount of strength and femininity that let everyone know she was going to use the whip with all her intent. Or maybe because it looked like she was having so much fun, enjoying the scene so much, both Venus and Jimmy, and it was so different from the porn versions: they were both trembling for it, both expecting the first blow with equal desire, with equal hunger; they were dying to hurt. Their craving was like a taste in the air.

The sound of the soft leather against hard skin fills the room, and Raylan jumps again, can’t help it, Boyd’s hand slipping from his waist to his hip.

Venus keeps on hitting Jimmy, his chest getting redder by the second. She stops just to ride his chest, licking at the marred skin, her long fingernails scratching his torso even worse than the whip could. He's biting his lips not to cry out loud, not to be her little bitch, but it’s quite clear to everyone watching (and that should be just Venus) that he’s owned.

“Bite on this.” She gives him the handle of the whip, leans down, and Raylan can’t exactly see what she’s doing now – why the hell does he even _wants_ to see? –, her hair falling in cascades and shading Jimmy’s body, but the man lets out what would be a scream if he wasn’t biting hard on the handle. When she gets up again, there’s an ugly, red bite mark against his right nipple, drops of blood on the surface of the skin.

Raylan breaths in and out very carefully, but Boyd is already pressing his fingers on his hips.

She whips him again, longer this time, taking care of aiming for the bite. When Jimmy begs her to stop hitting him there, sobbing miserably, she hits his cock instead, and even through the jeans he’s still wearing it must have hurt.

She does it five more times.

Boyd’s fingers press against Raylan’s cock.

Venus kneels between Jimmy’s legs, opening the zipper with great care. For a moment Raylan believes she’s going to hit Jimmy’s cock again, this time without the protection of the jeans – she does look like she’s considering it. But then she’s lowering herself quick, and her mouth is closing around the member so quick Raylan lets out a small sound of surprise. Good thing Jimmy’s sound of surprise was way louder.

Under this light, bobbing her head up and down on Jimmy’s cock, Venus looks even more like Boyd, the exact image of Boyd’s lips as they stretch around Raylan’s cock, spit making her lips shine.

Boyd has to put a hand over Raylan’s mouth as his other fingers find their way into Raylan’s briefs.

Venus is taken by renewed enthusiasm just as Raylan’s eyes close as he tries not to move and let Boyd do the work. He doesn’t see what she does, then, but next thing he hears is Jimmy yelling, so he figures what must have happened.

“Now, now, Jimmy, I told ya you were gonna get punished if you start screamin’ like a damn damsel.” She says, flicking her hair back as she rises from between his legs, letting herself hump his bare, red chest. “No more blowjobs for you, since you clearly can’t take it.”

She strikes his cock with the whip again. And again. Jimmy screams. Jimmy cries. Raylan sucks at Boyd’s fingers, one hand going back to hold the man closer.

“Can you handle a blowjob?” she asks. “Hm, boy? I made you a question. Can ya?”

“Yes! Yes, Venus, please!”

She hits his cock him again. Boyd quickens his hand.

“Beg me for a blowjob, Jimmy.”

“Please. Pl-please. A blowjob.”

“Alright them, you begged so prettily.”

She raises her dress up to her waist and it’s no surprise she’s not wearing any underwear. Her cock is just as long and fat as Boyd’s, that thick cock pressing against Raylan’s back, pressing against Jimmy’s lips, fucking inside Jimmy’s mouth, as she kneels over his face.

She fucks in and out of him fast, holding his head and making him take it. He licks and moans, he wants to be used, he begs her to come in his mouth, on his throat. She reaches back to jerk him off with one hand, her body making one pretty arc over Jimmy’s body.

Boyd bites at Raylan’s shoulder, shoving his fingers deep in his mouth.

Her cock is splitting Jimmy lips, she pushes in until her balls are rubbing against his chin, and Raylan wonders, wonders, Boyd’s fingers moving fast on his cock, Raylan wonders if that’s what he looks like with Boyd’s cock inside his mouth, ravished and owned, that huge pulsating thing pushing inside of him, if he submits that much, if he looks like nothing more than pink lips marred with white come as someone else uses his body…

“Just like that.” Boyd whispers in his ear.

Raylan comes so hard everything goes dark for a second.

When Raylan starts breathing again – and he’s never trying to come silently ever again in his life, that was just pure torture – Venus is getting up, languidly, the slow movements of a woman satisfied. Jimmy is lying there, come smeared over his face (from Venus) and his chest (from himself). She unties him slowly, rubbing at his wrists with care, letting him get used to the daylight again.

Raylan doesn’t pay much attention to their small movements after that, concentrating only in not making a sound.

He does see Jimmy heading out, as Venus stay a second more to fix her hair and make-up. As they’re watching her, she just grabs something out of the floor and places it carefully over the bedside table, deliberately. She walks away then, closing the door behind her.

With a start, Raylan realizes the object handled with such care is nothing else but his own hat.

**Author's Note:**

> SO ARE Y'ALL TRAUMATIZED YET?
> 
> Okay, do you ship Boyd x Raylan? Come visit us at wedugcoal.tumblr.com
> 
> There you can find fic recs (with graphics!), you can rec a fic, you can discuss your feels, you can yell at me, you can do EVERYTHING Boyd x Raylan related. There are gifs, playlists, fanvideos, etc etc etc.
> 
> You wanna reach this writer? I'm at ohthati.tumblr.com
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING IT!


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